Saturday, 23 January 2016

Preston
and Nick endured the breakup of all breakups when Nick accused her of cheating
on him. He insisted, and she denied while the rain pounded against her driveway
and thunder roared in the distance. Then they both ran—Preston to a life of
Rock & Roll, and Nick to a career in the Army.

Four
years later, they’re damaged and broken almost beyond repair. He’s carrying
baggage from his military days, and she bears the scars of living a lifestyle
she’s grown to hate.

When
Preston’s label forces her to take time away from music, their paths cross in a
parking lot not twenty-four hours after her hometown return, anger and sparks
flying in a confusing blend. But regardless of the feelings neither has been
able to shake, too many lies and secrets stand in the way of the one thing they
need in order to recover.

“You think I’m trying to trap you in
your past.” He reached for me once more with his free hand, and I let him cup
my cheek with his still-dirty fingers. “I’m not. I don’t want to go back in
time and be who we were then. I want to be me, with you, here and now. I’m fine
with moving on from your past. I just want to be a part of your future.”

“I can’t separate them.” I moved my
face, and his hand fell to his side. “It’ll always be in my mind, how you
accused me, dumped me, and drove off. That’s not a clean break from my past.
That’s inviting it to ruin the rest of my life, too.”

“That’s trying. That’s knowing what’s
between us is worth pushing beyond whatever obstacle we gotta overcome to have
it. You’re worth it. I understand why you can’t say the same about me, but I’m
gonna keep trying to be worth it to
you. Until the end, when I’m gone and buried. And even then, you’ll still have
my love, whether you want it or not.”

I started to speak, whether to tell him
to kiss me or beg him to keep his distance, I’d never know. His boss called
from near the Silverado, reminding him he had less than five minutes to finish
with the truck before the owner was due to arrive.

Despite the strained schedule, Nick
took the time to hold my gaze for a few seconds more, the one word he offered
dripping with affection. “Always.”

About
the Author:

Connie
L. Smith spends far too much time with her mind wandering in fictional places.
She reads too much, likes to bake, and might forever be sad that she doesn’t
have fairy wings. And that she can’t swing dance. Her music of choice is
severely outdated, and as an adult she’s kind of obsessed with Power Rangers.
She has her BA from Northern Kentucky University in Speech Communication and
History (she doesn’t totally get the connection either), and is currently
working on her MA.

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